Life on Base
by Jazzgirl4eva
Summary: basically life on an autobot base on cyberttron, early war. multiple pairings, OC's, and no slash
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, so this is my first fic, and i hope you like it :) It will get more exciting later. Here goes nothin ...**

Fantasy sighed, onlining her optics to a light far too bright and early for to appreciate.

'What a dream' she thought, desperately reaching into the depths of her processor. She was searching for those beautiful feelings, emotions not yet experienced, but somehow programmed deep in her systems and escaping into her dreams.

'Almost! Relax, they'll come!' she wrestled with her memory banks as it faded…again. Registering another fail, she dazedly got up, headed for the wash racks.

Searching radio waves with her silver antennas, the light green and blue femme selected an upbeat tune, adding a bounce to her sluggish early morning steps. Overall, she made a rather cute spectacle as she strode through the halls, hands behind her back. She didn't mind her appearance, but sometimes wished she had the ever coveted tall slim frame with long slender legs. Her form was more petite with a slender waist and curvy hips. She had long ago decided to just be happy with what she had, and because of that she was a hard femme to bring down.

"Good morning, Firestar!" she chirped as the wash racks door slid open, receiving an obviously forced half smile in return.

'Well, not everyone can be a morning bot.' she reasoned.

Steam and cleansing scents greeted her olfactory sensors as she stepped into the room. Smiling and nodding to passing femmes, she made her way over to her favorite stall.

'Ahh, the wash racks never fail.' She sighed, relishing the slippery warmth of the cleansing fluid as it slid over her protoform.  
>Pretty soon there was a tapping from outside the stall, signaling the impatience of the other femmes.<p>

"Cool your carburetors, I'll be right out." She teased. Deciding she was ready to face another day, Fantasy exited the wash racks and started towards the rec room.  
>Besides the wash racks, the rec room was definitely Fantasy's favorite place on the base. Almost never empty, this comfortable lounge was the socializing spot of all autobots, mechs and femmes alike. Before and after shifts, bots gathered here to grab an energon drink, chat, and laugh.<br>Upon spotting her good friend Chromia, Fantasy switched off her music, as not to disturb her socializing, and fairly skipped over to her booth.

'My, she's bubbly this morning…' Chromia thought. 'But then again, when isn't she bubbly?'  
>Chuckling to herself and taking a sip of energon, the dark blue femme patted the seat next to her on the booth against the wall.<p>

"Hey there, little miss sunshine! What's got you fantasizing today, Fantasy?" Chromia said over the other bots' chatter. Fantasy grinned and let out a giggle.  
>"Oh, just preparing to deal with a glitch like you" She smirked.<p>

Chromia burst into raucous laughter, unaware that it caught the attention of a strong red mech across the room by the name of Ironhide. He gazed at her profile with bright blue optics, enjoying the curves of her form and the sound of her laughter. That femme, so much like himself, was strong-willed, independent, and loud. Yet, her spark was so warm, anyone who dared get past her hot temper found a generally happy autobot underneath. So pleasant in nature, yet absolutely ferocious when provoked. Somehow, he knew that she was his femme, whether she knew it or not.

"…got Red Alert to take my shift tomorrow night. How about you, Ironhide? Ironhide! Uhoh, looks like Ironhide's got a processer glitch, if you know what I mean." Sunstreaker said, earning snickers around the table.

"Starscream!" Sideswipe exclaimed softly.

"WHERE!" Ironhide roared, rearing up and unspacing his newest cannon. Everybot in the room snickered at the outburst.

"You aft shafts are gonna get it!" Ironhide sneered at the mechs at his table, regaining his senses. Slinking back into his chair, he emit a low growl.

"Love ya too, buddy." Sunstreaker smirked.

Chromia watched as Ironhide sent the rascals at his table a deadly glare. Secretly, she admired the tough, handsome, trigger-happy mech. He was just so…so…exciting!  
>Fantasy's ongoing giggles brought her back to reality.<p>

"That…was so…fraggin'…funny!" she managed between fits of giggles.

'Thank Primus Ironhide hasn't noticed' Chromia thought.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and so is… YOUR ENERGON!" she yelled, springing up as she noted the burnt orange liquid spreading towards her across the table.

"Oh…didn't notice!" she burst out laughing, again.

"Ah! Your expression!…just…like his!" she managed through her giggly haze.

Still laughing, Fantasy nearly made it to the serving table for a rag. An "Oof!" interrupted her giggles as she collided with something solid and white.

"Oh! Sorry! I was just, ah…" she found herself looking up into a handsome face.

"Hey, Fantasy! What's happenin? Besides runnin' me over, of course." Jazz grinned.

"Ahah, just scheming my next assault. That was all planned, you know." She smirked, with laughter in her optics.

'Primus, she's beautiful. Sassy, too!" Jazz thought  
>Being an autobot, he had been acquainted with this particular femme, but not quite familiar.<p>

"Oh, were ya now?" he replied, arching an optic ridge. She giggled, and he immediately liked the sound.

"Of course! I saw you come in, predicted your position upon my arrival, and… oh dear, guess I'm getting a bit carried away… I'm joking, I swear!" she smiled, sheepishly.

The reply earned her a hearty laugh from Jazz while she admired his strong features and warm personality.

"Now I see where ya get your name!" he grinned, optics shining through his blue visor.

"But hey, it's cool. Clever, too. Say, are you comin' to the party tomorrow? It's gonna be a real blowout!" he asked excitedly, and Fantasy's optics lit up.

"You bet I am! Can hardly wait! How about yourself?"

"Yeah, man! It's gonna be a pit of a time!" he replied enthusiastically.

"Fantasy! Get your aft over here!" Chromia yelled from her still messy table, interrupting their friendly banter.

"Looks like you're needed elsewhere…" Jazz admitted, a bit crestfallen.

"Oh, slag! The energon!" Fantasy exclaimed.

"Hm?"

"Oh, uh, I had a laugh attack back there and gave Chromia a mess to remember…" she smirked. "With energon!" she added quickly.

"Ya know, I think I'm disappointed I missed that." Jazz smiled

Before the elated femme could manage a reply, he added

"Ah, I'll let ya go now, before Chrome-head over there blows a fuse. See ya tomorrow?" he smiled.

"Yes!" was all she could squeak as he waved and walked away. Snapping out of her daze, she turned up her radio rather loud.  
>'Chromia isn't exactly in a socializing mood now…' she thought, heading towards the table and fuming femme.<br>'Oh, Primus…as the humans would say, here comes world war three…'

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" the sharp deafening sound of the decepticon alarm rang throughout the base.

"Slag!" Fantasy moaned aloud, rolling out of her recharge berth. It was only fitting for that Megajerk to launch an attack during night hours.  
>Snapping on her battle armor, she ran out of her room to locate the femme commander, Beta.<p>

"Fantasy!" someone yelled from behind. Turning her helm to glance over her shoulder, she spotted her friend Elita running to join her. Fantasy admired her slim, rosy pink and white form as she caught up.

"Beta's in the West Wing!" Elita stated as they began sprinting for their destination. Upon arriving, they quickly sought out their friends Moonracer and Chromia lining up in formation.

"Isn't this just like a D-con, to disturb our recharge." The blue femme complained.

"Eh, the night matches their sparks." Fantasy replied.

"Well, it doesnt match ours!" Chromia quipped, charging her rifle.

"I cant wait to turn those decepti-punks to scrap and…"

"Chill, Chromia, here comes Beta." Elita snapped.  
>Some fifty femmes watched silently as the large blue femme strode to the front of the room. She briefly surveyed the formation before breaking the silence.<p>

"Well, what the slag are you waiting for? Transform and roll out!" she bellowed before heading outside, the fifty sleek alt modes right behind her.

Outside, the mechs were already awaiting orders from Ultra Magnus. He smiled as his bonded rolled up and transformed beside him.

"Ready, Love?" he asked quietly. Taking his hand somewhat discreetly, she smirked, sending love and humor through their bond.

"Lets hope your mechs can keep up with my femmes!"

"If they're anything like you, sweetspark, there's no hope at all." He laughed, sending even more love through their bond. She giggled

.  
>"I love you" she whispered, before squeezing his servo and turning to admire the femmes under her command.<br>Beta proudly watched the femmes standing before her. Every one was unique in their own way, yet they all united under one goal. The fall of the decepticons.

Fantasy couldn't help but smile. She loved the anticipation and excitement before a battle, but there was an added bonus today. Her position in formation had her in the line nearest the mechs. And standing right nest to her was none other than the mech she bumped into last joor.

"Say, don't I know you?" he smiled.

"I don't know, do you?" she challenged, smirking.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Well, I guess…"

"Good! Energon in the rec room, tomorrow, 0700 hours." He smirked this time.

As the giddiness welled up inside her and she searched her clouded processer for a response, their Prime came forward and beckoned for silence.  
>Albeit young for a leader, the few times the autobots had engaged in battle Optimus Prime had proved to be a talented tactician, powerful fighter, and wise counselor. The war, though still young in existence, was rapidly growing, calling for more extensive training and scrutinizing organization.<br>Optimus groaned inwardly, taking his place before the mass of soldiers.  
>However, it wasn't the decepticons causing this particular annoyance…it was the femmes. He felt their intense stares as he stood over them. He barely got a days peace without a throng of them following him around, begging for a date. He was grateful for his best friend Ironhide, who usually took the liberty of scaring them off with his gruff manor. Speaking of the tough mech… Optimus pushed aside his stray thoughts and focused on his announcement.<p>

"Good morning autobots and thank you for responding so quickly to the alarm." He began, receiving mumbles and a few squeals from the audience.

"I know how much you all want to get back to recharge, so I'll make this announcement brief. At 0300 hours this morning, one of our fellow autobots was attacked by a decepticon seeker. We know not the nature of the assault, and for the time being we are on high alert. Ironhide…"

Fantasy's audio receptors picked up on a sharp vent intake beside her from Chromia.

"…is reportedly in medbay, our CMO stabilizing his condition. We have heightened security, and ask that you all be on top guard. That concludes my announcement, autobots you may fallout."

Immediately, conversation sprang to life among the ranks.

"Oh Primus, what now…"

"Those fragging pit-slaggers…"

"Poor Ironhide!"  
>"Ah, no bot cares about him…" the mech that said this didn't know what hit him. In a flash, he was pinned, faceplates down, on the ground by a dark blue blur. Charged and ready, a rifle was steadily pointed to his helm.<br>"You. Take. That. Back. NOW!" a seething Chromia ground out in his audio receptor.  
>The others watched in shock, silenced by her aggressive response.<p>

"O-ok! Ironhi-…"

"SHUT-UP! You don't even deserve to speak his name, scum! You…" she was interrupted by a sharp whisper.  
>"Chromia! Look!" she looked slowly upward, and found her spark being bored into by intense blue optics.<p>

"Designation, soldier?" Optimus asked, calmly.

"Chromia, sir." She replied, standing up straight.

"May I inquire as to what is going on here?"

Before Chromia could begin, a confident voice sounded from behind Optimus.

"Certainly, sir." Optimus turned and rapidly shuttered and un-shuttered his optics. He stared at the rosy pink femme before him.

"Designation Elita One, sir, and there is reasonable motif behind this assault. You see, sir, this mech verbally degraded one of your most esteemed soldiers." she explained.

Still regaining his composure, Optimus managed

"And that soldier is?"

"Ironhide." She replied, matter-of-factly.

Optimus went quiet for a moment before opening up a comm link.

: Please accompany me in my office, one breem: Optimus.

: Yes, sir: Prowl.

Motioning for the offender to follow, Optimus started off toward his office. Stopping, he turned suddenly.

"Thank you, Chromia, for defending the honor of my weapon specialist. Perhaps next time you can do so without so much…commotion."

"Yes, sir." She smiled sheepishly.

"And thank you, Elita One, for assisting with the explanation. I expect to see you around." She nodded and he turned again to leave.  
>When he was a safe distance away, Eita vented out deeply and noticeably relaxed.<p>

"That was juicy." Chromia smirked.

"You're one to talk!" Elita shot back, glaring.

Fantasy and Jazz exchanged glances for bursting into laughter and heading back inside.

Optimus dropped into his office chair with a thud, too tired to consider the conduct expected of him as Prime.

"Designation, soldier." Primus, he seemed to be saying that a lot these joors…

"Gears, sir." he replied, helm bowed

.  
>"Well, Gears, is seems that Chromia punished you enough, so I'll let you go with a warning. Dismissed."<br>Saluting weakly,Gears turned and trudged back to his quarters, leaving Optimus to his thoughts.

"Sir?" Prowl broke his Prime's reverie.

"Hm? Oh, Prowl. Tell me what is known about an Elita One." He required of his second-in-command.

"Elita One… is she the short gray femme…?"

"No. she's more of a…rosy pink color."

"Ah. Does she have a wide protoform and yellow optics?"

"No! She's tall… and slender…blue optics."

"Oh! That Elita One. She arrived with a small group of femmes from Iacon after Shockwave destroyed their headquarters. Her creator is unknown, but she speaks most highly of an Alpha Trion. As I hear it, she is a very intelligent femme." Prowl informed him.

Optimus sat in silence.

"Sir?"

"Oh, yes, thank you Prowl. That is all."

"Goodnight, Optimus."

"Hmm…"

Prowl vented inwardly as he left the room.  
>'This could get interesting. No, I take that back. This willl get interesting…'<p>

**The next day…**

"Chromia! What in Pit…?"

"Hush, Moonracer! Come on!"

"Wha…?"

"You have happily volunteered to accompany me to medbay, so I don't look like a total aft shaft while I check on somebot."

"Yeah, _you_ may not look like an aft shaft, but what about _me_?"

"Ah, whatever. Just hurry up before Beta misses us."

Moonracer planted her pedes to the floor.  
>"No. I'm not budging until you tell me just who this somebot is."<br>"Umm…"

"Spit it out, femme!"

"IRONHIDE!" Chromia blurted.

*cyber-cricket chirps*

"BAHAHAHA-"

*CLANK*

"ARGH! Chromia! You didn't have to kick my aft!" Moonracer exclaimed, rubbing the now sore spot.

"Yes, I did. Now lets go."

"But-!"

"You promised! Move!"

"Grrr…I don't know why I hang out with you-" Moonracer glared.

"You will." Chromia smirked.

*******  
><strong>Med bay…<strong>

"Ratchet!"

The large white mech looked down at his restless patient.

"Simmer down Ironhide, I'm not done rewiring your servo."

"Hurry it up, will ya?"

"Sure thing, if you want your servo welded to your aft…"

"Hmph. I need ta go kick some deciptipunk…hey, ya hear that?"

"Of course I heard that, now hush!"

**Outside the room…**

"Chromia, I've never been in medbay before! We just got here a few solar cycles ago!"

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"I changed my mind. Hey, want to go get some high grade?"  
>Chromia unspaced her rifle, and aimed at Moonracer.<p>

"Slaggit, 'Racer! You're coming with me if I have to-!"

"Shh! They'll hear you-!" Moonracer squeaked…

" We already have." A voice cut in beside them.

'Frag.' Both femmes thought.  
>They turned to see that the door had slid open, and there stood Ratchet, white arms folded across his chassis. Behind him sat Ironhide, staring wide-opticed at Chromia, rifle still pointed at Moonracer.<p>

"Umm…hi!" Moonracer squeaked…again.

"Hello, Hatchet! We've, uh, come for you to check Moonracer out!" Chromia began "…I mean, see what's wrong with her!" she added quickly.

"Say, aren't you Ironhide?" she asked smoothly, while dragging Moonracer through the door way and into the room.

"The name is Ratchet" he huffed "Alright, Moonracer, what's the problem?"

"She needs to flush her tanks." Chromia stated, before she and Ironhide burst out laughing.

"What? No! Chromia! I'm going to-!"

"It's alright Moonracer, I expect nothing less from these two." Ratchet glared at them and took her servo in effort to calm her. She looked up at him and he dropped it abruptly.

"Oh, sorry, uh, I've, um…" she thought quickly "…been having trouble initiating recharge!" she said, seeming relieved.

"Oh, that's an easy fix. I"ll just initiate one for you, and your processer will remember the sequence. If you will just follow me, please." He said, leading her into the next room.  
>Moonracer panicked.<p>

"But-!" She was getting so tired of being pushed around…

"Now Moonracer, be a good patient and do what the CMO ordered." Chromia purred, pushing her into the room and shutting the door. Grinning, she congratulated herself and turned to face Ironhide.

"So," Ironhide began in his south cybertronian drawl, sending a quick shiver through her frame. "You're Chromia."

"Why, yes I am. Trigger happiest femme in all Cybertron." She smirked, hands on her hips.

'She. Is. Hot.' Ironhide thought, feeling his cooling fans kick in.

"No kiddin'. And Ah'm the trigger happy mech. A'course, it comes with the territory."

"Territory?"

"Weapon Specialist." He grinned when her optics lit up.

"Say, would ya like ta go to the shootin' range sometime? After Ah get outta this fraggin' med bay, a'course."

"Sure! That is, if you're looking for some competition." She she challenged, optics gleaming.  
>'Primus, she's even better up close!' he thought.<p>

"Ya got yourself a deal."

Their conversation was stopped short when Ratchet reentered the room, and adressed Chromia.

"Alright, she's in full recharge, it will probably last about half a solar cycle. Now, I'm not a nosy mech, but before she went out she mumbled something about a lovesick rifle…"

"Oh, umm, yeah…she does have strange dreams sometimes…" she reasoned.

"So I gather. Now, you better go so I can finish putting back together Mr. tough mech here…"

"Alright, alright! Don't blow a gasket, I'm going!" when she reached the door she turned around.

"See ya later, 'Hide!" she winked and sauntered out of the room, swaying her hips more than necessary.  
>Ratchet sighed, exasperated.<p>

"Now ain't that a femme!" Ironhide grinned staring at the now closed door.

If Ratchet could have rolled his optics, he would.

"Whatever you say." He grumbled, before his thoughts drifted to the serene mint green femme in the other room.

**hooray! you read it! now, maybe it's just me, but i hear a review button calling. do you? [yes, yes you do. ;)]**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers: I dont own Transformers, only the OC's in this story.**

**Chappie 2! ok, hope you like it :)**

"Alright Ironhide, you're free to go." Ratchet stood with crossed arms while he addressed the impatient red mech.

"Finally! Frag, Ratchet! I thought you were gonna make me miss that party tonight!" he exclaimed, relieved.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that, you would have my helm…"

"Slag right I would!" Ironhide cut in, only for Ratchet to continue unfazed…

"Especially if that femme…Chromia, is it? will be there…"

"Chromia…" Ironhide murmured, processor straying.

"Okay, Ironhide, you'll see her tonight. Now, you're still under medical concern, so no rounds today. Prime's orders are for you to take Red Alerts shift in the security office until the party this evening."

"Aw, slag! There's no way…!"

"MOVE!" Ratchet ordered, wrench held up menacingly.

"Alright, alright, Ah'm goin! Don't blow something'." He said over his shoulder, exiting.

* * *

><p><strong>Security office, 1900 hours.<strong>

Ironhide sat slumped in the security office chair, optics wandering over the many screens and buttons before him.

'This is fun.' He snorted, watching bots walking through hallways and talking. There was nothing even remotely interesting going on.

"Ironhide, do us all a favor, and don't touch anything." He remembered Red Alert saying as he left.

'Not like there's anything ta touch…hmm?"

Ironhide paused when he saw a blue button labeled "Records" under the main computer screen.

'This looks promising…' he thought, pressing it.

A list of most recent entries showed.

_'Sunstreaker, Sideswipe' _

'Probly just pranks…'

_'Mirage, Bluestreak'_

'Probly just an argument'

_'Gears, Chromia'_

'WHAT!'

He furiously uploaded the file, eagerly watching the screen. It read '_Front lawn, 0300 hours' _

'That's right after ah got jumped…'

A video started, and Ironhide's optics widened at what he saw.

It showed Chromia flip a mech onto his face plates, and kneel with her rifle pointed to his helm.

"You. Take. That. Back. NOW!"

His optics got wider at what he heard next.

"O-ok! Ironhi-"

"SHUT-UP! You don't even deserve to speak his name, scum! You…" the clip ended as Optimus Prime entered the recording.

Ironhide grinned, realizing what had just happened. This just kept getting better! He could hardly wait for the party...

* * *

><p>Fantasy entered her room, humming along with her radio, only to find Elita, Chromia, and Moonracer sitting on her berth. She laughed when all three turned their helms simultaneously to see her.<p>

"Really, Fantasy! You have to tell us whats so urgent you don't have time to hang with us before the party!" Elita huffed.

"Oh, that." Fantasy said, regaining her composure. "Sorry to keep you in suspense. Im actually about to go. Im meeting Jazz… " she was interrupted by a squeal.

"OOOOHHHHH Jazz asked you out!" Moonracer fairly burst.

"Well, yeah. Energon in the rec room." Fantasy smiled, trying not to gush with happiness. She was extremely excited.

Chromia snorted.

"Well, I guess that's good enough for you two, but Ironhide and I are hittin it up at the shooting range!" she began excitedly.

"By the way, Elita, did you notice the way Optimus stared at you this morning?"

Chromia scowled when Elita sent her a questioning glance.

"Obviously not. Primus, Elita you are oblivious! He was staring the pit out of the back of your helm while we were in the rec room!" Chromia explained.

"Oh, well maybe that's why I didnt notice. Last time I checked, I didn't exaatly have optics on the back of my helm, O wise one!" Elita snapped.

"Well, if you were a real femme, you would sense these things…"

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME A MECH-?"

"Really you two! Chromia can it! Elita, you are obviously not a mech! So hush!"

They all stared, shocked by Moonracer's outburst. She was usually the quiet one…

"Sorry, I, um, just not feeling myself this evening…"

"Look, Moonracer. Im sorry it seems like we're all ditching you for the party, but its not our fault you don't want go!"

"But it's not your fault, either." Elita added, shooting a glance at Chromia.

"Hey, it's completely alright Moonracer. Besides, I'm sure you can find something to do around here." Fantasy added, arms motioning around her quarters."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll be fine."

"Now I better go, im gonna be late! Bye, femmes!

She eyed Chromia and Elita.

" And keep your servos off my stuff!"

"Fat chance." Chromia smirked when she was gone.

They all giggled.

* * *

><p>"Just be yourself, don't be nervous. If he doesn't like you as yourself, he's not for you. Be yourself…." Fantasy kept remindeing herself on her way to the rec room.<p>

She turned a corner, not quite paying attention.

:clank:thud:

"Ouch! Hey, what the pit!" fantasy exclaimed. Shaking her helm, she came to focus on a small purple and blue femme on the ground beside her. She was small, even smaller that Fantasy, but her blue optics held a bright determination full of strength.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you." Fantasy apologized.

"It's alright, no harm done" she smiled shyly.

"I haven't seen you around…but then again my team's only been here a few decacycles. What's your name?" Fantasy asked, standing and offering a hand.

"Stardust." She replied quietly, accepting it and getting slowly to her feet.

"Well, hi Stardust! I'm Fantasy."

"Hello." she said and looked away

"Well…nice meeting you. See ya around!" Fantasy smiled and started walking away, seeing as the femme wasn't too eager to start a conversation.

Stardust watched her go, and when she far enough away, let out a sigh of relief and sank back to the floor against the wall.

'Agh, this will take awhile.' She thought, examining her newly twisted ankle cable.

'How am I supposed to get all the way to medbay when everyone's getting ready for that fragging party?' she thought bitterly. Not exactly the most social of bots, she had opted not to attend.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she tried to stand. Grimacing against the pain, she took a step. Alas, her ankle cable gave out and the floor said hello to her face…again.

"Grrrr…" she grit her teeth and managed a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Came a quiet inquiry above her.

She looked up and blinked. The ever stoic second in command had a concerned look on his faceplates.

"Uh, yeah, I'll manage."

Clearly she was in pain, but he understood the urge to hide emotions all too well. He immediately felt a connection with the little femme.

"Here, let me see. Is it your ankle cable?" she nodded shyly.

She watched him silently as he observed the ankle on her outstretched leg. He was very handsome. Strong jaw line, straight nose plates, the perfect praxian profile. She couldn't help but notice his immaculately clean armor, and the graceful way his door wings aligned over his back. She tore her gaze away when he addressed her again.

"Your cable is definitely twisted, Medbay is a must. Can you walk?"

She hesitated before shaking her helm.

She held back a startled gasp when she suddenly found herself airborne.

"I apologize if this proximity is discomforting, but I didn't see another way." He explained to the startled femme in his arms. As he started walking, all she could do was stare with wide optics at his face.

He noticed her watching him and stopped.

"Are you alright?" he asked, again, looking down at her with concerned optics.

"Oh…yes, I'm fine, thankyou." She nearly stuttered.

"That's good. This is a relatively long walk, so I suggest you relax." He said gently.

He was right, Medbay was all the way across base, it would take at least a breem to get there.

She nodded, and deciding to make things easier for him, gingerly wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, that does make it considerably easier. Although you are a rather light femme."

She blushed, and not being able to come up with a response, nodded her helm. Prowl sensed her discomfort and decided to get a conversation going.

"May I ask your name?" he inquired.

"Stardust." She said quietly, optics fixed forward.

"Ah, I filed some of your records a joor or two ago. You have remarkable skills in the spy field, if I remember correctly. Am I right to understand you are of Decepticon heritage?" he asked politely.

Stardust blinked. Though he asked with no malice or disgust, she had been under the impression that no bot besides Optimus and Ratchet knew of her creators.

"How-?"

"Well, as SIC, I find it my place to be informed of skills, history, etc. to help with placement in the ranks." He answered coolly.

"Oh, well, yes. My creators were decepticons, but they did not raise me to be. They were neutrals before Megatron raided our city. They left me with a neutral couple and joined the decepticons. When I learned later that Megatron had them offlined for disobeying orders, I came here." She finished quickly and went quiet again.

"I'm sorry about your creators."

"Don't be. Dirty trait- oh, um thankyou."

"Its alright, I can understand why you feel that way. My own creators were offlined by Megatron. My city in Prax was one of the first massacre sights of the war. I had my own protoform, but I was still being alternately carried in my creators' spark chambers for nourishment. When Megatron tried to force them into decepticon ranks they refused. My mother just barely shoved me under the table before he stormed in and ripped out their sparks…"

He shuttered his optics as the agonizing image replayed across his CPU.

Unbeknownst to him, his optics had started leaking lubricant. He un-shuttered them when he felt a warm servo wipe his cheek plates. Stardust was wiping his tears. The compassion and sorrow in her optics was more than readable. She proceeded to wrap her arms tighter and bury her face in his neck.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." She whispered, dropping her helm down to rest it on his chassis.

Surprised, but warmed by her reaction, he looked into her blue optics.

"Thankyou."

"Your welcome." They both smiled and the somber mood lifted.

They continued the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, and Prowl did not mind a bit that Stardust never lifted her helm off his chassis.

* * *

><p>Elita- *elbows Chromia's side really hard*<p>

"WHAT THE FRAG, GLITCH!"

"Cool it! Now look! Do you see…?"

"Woah! Who in Pit got PROWL of ALL mechs to carry her?"

"I don't know, but she must be either EXTREMEMLY sexy, or EXTREMELY smart to get him..."

They nodded in agreement.

They overlooked the possibility that she, as herself, was just the perfect match.

* * *

><p>While Elita and Chromia were busy snooping through Fantasy's stuff, Moonracer decided to go back to her quarters.<p>

'Primus, why is this so boring?' she wondered.

'I came here hoping for excitement, but no. beta's crazy drills, the rec room, and a party I don't even want to go to...'

She decided to let the depressing train of thought fade as she bounced through the halls. But as she rounded the last corner before her room, she stopped. In a purple flash, a decepticon materialized his back towards her.

Quickly as possible with her new skills, she fumbled to unspace her rifle while he made his way toward the nearest energon store room.

She stood, rifle ready, waiting for him to turn. But he never did. He ambled over to the door and let himself in, unfazed by the fact he was completely unguarded.

After he went inside she crept to the door and pressed herself against the wall when her audio receptors picked up on...

'Humming? He's alone in an Autobot base and he's humming?'

Shocked by this and the revelation that Decepticons could even enjoy things like music, she lost concentration...and dropped her rifle.

:clank:

Then the humming stopped.

'Frag what now!'

Preparing for the worst, she slunk down against the wall brought her kneed to her chassis and covered her helm with her servos.

"I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not-"

"Yes you are, I see you!" a mech voice interrupted what she thought had been her thoughts.

She looked up to find a black and purple Seeker grinning at her.

"Did you really expect me to believe that?" he continued playfully, arching an optic ridge.

"Umm…yes?" she squeaked.

"Oh, ok then. I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here, then." He took a step forward and looked down.

"Oh, you dropped your gun. Anyways…" He continued unfazed. Moonracer just stared, astonished at what was happening.

"…I was assigned to raid this building. Three, I think. I wanted one, but of course _Starscream_ picked that one. He's always first!" He made a pouty face.

"I know what you mean!" Moonracer began, drawn into the banter.

"Chromia _always _has to be in front of me in drill line ups. I don't get it, I mean is it really all that important to be first?"

He sat down beside her and continued.

"Really! You should see our energon line, when we have any. Starscream is the biggest line butter ever! So is Motormaster." The seeker sighed exasperatedly.

"Yeah, Fantasy can be such a pain in the wash racks, and Firestar-" They were interrupted by his comm link.

"What now, Screamer?" he whined and made as if to roll his optics.

"Yes, I know, I know, alright! I'll be there in a breem. No I'm not under attack." He made chatty motions with his servos, which made Moonracer giggle.

"Yes, okay." He ended the transmission and turned to Moonracer.

"Do your comrades nag you this much? I can't do anything on my own without five comm link calls!" he complained.

"Maybe not, but that was pretty funny. Do you always talk to each other like that?"

He put a servo on his chin as if to think for a moment.

"Yup." He smirked and turned to look at her when she giggled.

"You know, I think you're the prettiest Autobot I've ever seen."

"Really?" She turned to him, optics wide.

"Yup. Well, I've gotta get back." He said, standing and offering her a servo. She took it and he pulled her up, without letting go of her servo.

"What's your name?" Moonracer asked.

"What's yours?"

"Hey, I asked-"

"Nah-ah, femmes first, my dear." He grinned cheekily. She sighed.

"Moonracer."

"Well then, Moonracer. Until we meet again." She giggled again when he bowed dramatically over her servo.

The last she saw of him was a devilishly handsome grin as he disappeared in a purple flash.

She sat back down, smiling dreamingly.

'He actually wanted to hear me complain…" she thought.

"Oh, I hope we meet again." Shuttering her optics, she vented a sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>Hooray you read it! Review time! :D<strong>

**p.s. do you think there should be more D-con action? let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, chappie 3! Thanks to everyone who has so generously reviewed so far! **

**In this chappie I'm just going to pretend Cybertron has the same music as earth…seeing as I'm not well acquainted with any Cybertronian hits :P**

**Disclaimer: OC's are mine; the rest is Hasbro's amazingness!**

After her little run in with Stardust, Fantasy waited for the rec room door to slide open before stepping inside.

"Hello? Slag! Where is Everybot?"

It was empty. Sticking her helm into the hallway, she called

"Jazz?" Hoping for an answer.

Nothing.

"I cant believe it! The first date, he picks the spot, and he doesn't even show up!" she fairly growled.

"What am I supposed tell the femmes? I can picture it now."

"So Fantasy how was your date?" She mimicked Chromia and put her hands on her hips.

"Date? Oh, that. He decided not to show up." She shrugged.

Standing there, trying to calm her mounting anger, she put a servo oh her hip thought for an astrosecond.

"Well, maybe I'm not being fair. Maybe he's got a legitimate excuse. But, come on! First date?"

The anger surfaced again, only this time not so hot. When it sulled t a nagging irritation she decided to go see for herself.

Stomping out of the rec room, and so absorbed in her irritation, she didn't notice Moonracer ambling dow the hall towards her. At the last moment she looked up and side stepped the collision.

"Moon! What _are_ you doing?" she demanded, servos on hips.

"Oh, sorry Fan. I was just…ah…I was, um…I don't really know, actually." She smiled sheepishly.

"Well I know what you can do."

"What?"

"Watch where you're going. See ya later." And Fantasy took off, leaving Moonracer to her thoughts…of a certain purple seeker with a beguiling grin.

Fantasy, however, kept going. She was thinking about Jazz, the mech who currently had her disposition upside down. She felt bad about the way she had treated Moonracer.

_'Guess I'll have to apologize later…'_

She needed to chill.

_'Maybe I should go to the wash racks instead…no. I need to know what his problem is.' _And with that she picked up the pace to Jazz's quarters.

When she got to his room, she could hear music from inside, and her servos curled into fists. In her current irritation, this was not a good sign.

'_If he's in there with no excuse…' _Fantasy fought down the rising bitterness. She stood facing the door, hands on her hips.

"Jazz?"

No answer. She took a step closer to and pounded on the door, hoping to be heard above the music.

"Jazz! It's Fantasy! Jazz?"

Silence, except for the music.

'_Then its skill time,"_ she smirked. Just a few joors ago she had convinced Beta to teach her how to override door codes, "in the event of an emergency."

After she overrode the code and the door slid open, "_Don't Wanna Be in Love"_ came clear to her audio receptors. She immediately noticed how bumpin' the bass was and began swaying to the beat, tapping her pede and bobbing her helm.

"_Feeling good now,_

_Don't be afraid to get down, _

_I don't wanna be in love,_

_I don't wanna be in love…"_

She spun around, but stopped short when she caught sight of a familiar form in the corner of the room.

Something dawned in her processer, and she immediately forgave him.

In the middle of this terrific beat, Jazz lay on the floor, slouched against his berth.

_'Aw, he must have been so exhausted he collapsed. How could I have thought he would blow me off.' _

She smiled, thinking he was so cute, the picture of innocence. She paused the music and walked over to his recharging form.

Still smiling, she kneeled down beside him and began stroking his helm.

He stirred and blinked his optics, sitting up.

"Hmm? Fantasy? What are you doing here?" he asked rubbing his optics with the heel of his servos.

She giggled "Why don't you tell me?"

He looked really puzzled, and she sat next him, patiently for the realization to sink in.

"Me? But I'm not supposed to meet you till…" he checked his internal chronometer, it was a little after 0700 hours, which meant-

Suddenly, his face plates took on a sincere expression. Sitting ramrod straight, he turned to Fantasy.

"Ah, slag! Fantasy I'm really sorry! Prime had me on duty late last night, and-"

"Jazz, it's alright! I've over recharged before, and it's no big deal."

"But it was our first date! Will you forgive me? How can I make it up to ya?"

"Of course I forgive you, lets drop it." she smiled and pat his shoulder.

Then her optics took on mischievous light.

"But I do expect you to make it up to me." She smirked

"I was afraid of that." He chuckled "What's on your mind?"

Well, she didn't exactly want to tell him that, seeing as she had secretly been reading erotica novels…and she would just embarrass herself. He was just so cute, being genuinely sorry and pleading for forgiveness. So she thought for a moment.

"I know," her optics lit up.

She looked him square in the optics with a mischievous grin, and pointed at something.

Intrigued and puzzled, Jazz's gaze followed her extended servo, and he chuckled.

"Looking to get warmed up for the party?" he grinned, getting to his pedes and walking over to his sound system.

"No," she giggled. "Just starting it."

And with that Jazz switched on the music, and Ke$ha's _Blow _began pouring out of the speakers, nearly filling the room.

Jazz turned around, only to meet Fantasy's disapproving gaze, hands on her hips.

"Primus, what now?" he asked hands on his own hips.

She made no repl, just glare fixed on him and tapping her pede impatiently.

"Did ya hear me? I said-"

"That's the _problem_! I _did_ hear you!" she exclaimed, jerking her thumb in an upward motion.

Catching the hint, Jazz started laughing, and she too let go of her serious expression.

'_What. A. Femme!' _Jazz thought amused, while he cranked up the volume.

"_This place about to BLOW…"_

Grinning wildly, they both began bobbing, swinging, and jamming.

Jumping and pumping their fist in the air during the chorus, they laughed, both thinking this was much better than energon any day.

And so began their date, bass vibrations floor to ceiling, and they were lost in their own little world of dancing and music.

Neither Jazz or Fantasy could have asked for more.

Elita and Chromia: walking by Jazz's room

Chromia: "What the frag? I thought he was supposed to be on a date!"

Elita: "I guess Jazz just isn't the mech for her if he's going to ditch her like that-"

Chromia: "Well I'm going to have to give him a piece of mind if-"

Elita: *jabs Chromia really hard in the side*

Chromia: "GLITCH! WHAT IS UP WITH THAT!"

Elita: "Shut up and look!"

Moonracer: *just about floats down the hall with a dreamy smile and doesn't notice the two femmes*

Chromia: "Well I knew she was a ditz, but really?"

Elita: "Beats me!"

Chromia: "Actally, she doesn't beat you. You're worse."

*starts walking*

Elita: "WHAT?"

*unspaces rifle*

Chromia: *turns and sees rifle*

"Oh frag. Um…bye?"

*takes off running*

Elita: *chasing Chromia and waving rifle madly*

"YOU'RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT TO THE PARTY IN ONE PEICE!"

Chromia: *runs faster*

**Okey doke, review time! **** thanks for reading!**


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